


Among the Trees

by icandrawamoth



Series: Thru-hiking au [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camping, Crushes, Developing Relationship, First Time, Hiking, Hiking Porn, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Pining, Sexual Tension, There's A Tag For That
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 21:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Wedge encounters Tycho on his thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail once again, and their attraction comes to a head.





	Among the Trees

**Author's Note:**

> To enjoy this fic (and this au), you may want to have a general idea of [what thru-hiking is](http://www.appalachiantrail.org/home/explore-the-trail/thru-hiking) is. In short, Wikipedia defines it as: "to hike an established end-to-end long-distance trail with continuous footsteps and completing it within one calendar year."

The sun is starting to set by the time Wedge decides to stop hiking for the day. He could have stopped earlier, and this means he'll likely be having his dinner in the dark, but he doesn't regret it. The day had been a good one full of long, even stretches of trail and lovely, quiet forest views. He hadn't wanted it to end, and he's already looking forward to more of the same tomorrow.

He turns off at the sign for the next shelter, already visible not far away, the open side of the tiny wooden building facing away from the main trail. Wedge can't hear anything but the chirps of insects all around him, and at first he thinks he'll have the shelter to himself. That wouldn't be the worst thing – he'd be able to stretch out and take his time going to bed and getting up and not have to worry about disturbing or being disturbed by anyone else. Yet as much as Wedge has grown to enjoy the trail's more solitary moments, he's still sometimes unnerved by being out in the middle of the woods alone at night. And he likes speaking to other hikers.

Therefore, he's a little relieved when he rounds the building and spots a backpack sitting on the one picnic table next to a fire pit, which glows merrily with a small campfire. Inside the shelter, a man is spreading out his sleeping bag, and he looks up at sound of Wedge's approach.

Wedge's heart flips even as a grin spreads onto his face. “Hey, Tycho.” Since that first meeting, they've never called each other by their trail names.

“Wedge.” Tycho smiles at him, flipping a lock of blond hair out of his face. “Good to see you again.”

“You too. Don't mind company, do you?”

“Not at all. Little late to be getting off, isn't it?”

Wedge shrugs as he plops his own bag down on the edge of the shelter. “It was a good day. And I need to get to town soon. May have slightly misjudged my last supply haul.”

Tycho makes a sympathetic face. They've all been there.

There's comfortable silence as Wedge spreads out his things, situating his sleeping back next to Tycho's and setting his lantern out beside it in case he needs to go to use the privy after the fire is put out. When he's finished, he gets his dinner supplies from his bag and moves to the fire to start heating water.

Tycho joins him. “It's been a few weeks. How've you been doing? Any interesting stories?”

Wedge tells him everything he can remember since the last time they'd seen each other. The bear he saw while bathing in a stream after a particularly grueling day. The time he'd been afraid he sprained his angle after stumbling on a patch of loose stones. The interesting people he's met.

Tycho listens eagerly, and then he takes his turn. He's had much the same experience as Wedge. They're still in the early parts of the trail, still enthusiastic. They've got their feet under them, but it still doesn't feel like a job.

Wedge adds the water to a packet of noodles and digs in, practically feeling the way his body relishes the calories after a long day of hard work. He's still listening closely to Tycho's stories, watching him over his food.

Tycho is bright and passionate, blue eyes sparking in the gathering dark and the light of the fire as he speaks. Talking with him, there's a warmth in Wedge that isn't just from his food.

He's missed Tycho. That's easy to admit to himself. He's not the only friend Wedge has made on the trail, but he is the only one he felt so drawn to so quickly. He curses that their respective walking speeds and plans have kept them from meeting more often. And he's not about to slow down or speed up just to spend time with him – that would be far too obvious.

Tycho trails off and tilts his head. “What are you thinking?”

Wedge snaps back to the present. “Nothing.” He rights himself, changes the subject. “Have you seen Clown and Eeyore?”

Tycho chuckles at the mention of the couple they'd shared a shelter with early on. “Nah, but they're still on the trail. I keep seeing Clown's entries in the logbooks.”

“Living up to his name, I'll bet.” Wedge smiles. That's been one benefit of mostly being behind Tycho – keeping up with his own log entries. Every delighted story of a unique bird or a philosophical ramble about a fallen tree on the trail signed _Tyke_ makes Wedge ache a little more, and it always makes him feel better knowing Tycho is out there.

But not “out there” now. Right beside him.

Tycho is watching him again, and Wedge can't quite read the expression in his shadowed eyes. He looks down at his food instead, scraping the last bit of sauce from the packet before standing to take care of his trash.

It's foolish, he thinks, back to Tycho as he rummages in his bag, falling for someone else on the trail. They'd hardly see each other over the five months they'd be nominally together, and then at the end, they'd go back to their separate lives. What's the point?

That doesn't stop him _wanting_, though. Half a dozen run-ins, and just thinking of Tycho now, sitting at the picnic table behind him, he wants to march across the camp, sink his fingers into his hair, and press his tongue into his mouth – damn the consequences.

He doesn't. He doesn't want to set them both up for hurt later. There's no point. He doesn't even know if Tycho feels the same about him.

Wedge pulls out his sleep clothes and starts to change. He's still a little shy about it, particularly with Tycho here, but thru-hikers are used to sharing tiny communal spaces. Stripping in front of each other doesn't mean anything; it's only efficient.

Except Tycho has gone utterly silent. Wedge pauses as he reaches for the hem of his pants, trying to be subtle about the way he peeks over his shoulder.

Tycho is watching him. Head turned in his directly, eyes forward, not even trying to hide it.

Heat shoots through Wedge as he jerks his own head back around. Tycho is watching him change, and he wants Wedge to know. That _means_ something.

He tries to swallow and makes himself continue without slowing down or speeding up. Tycho is watching him, and it's strange and new, but he doesn't hate it.

Too soon, Wedge is covered once more by his sleep clothes, a t-shirt and shorts, light jacket tossed nearby in case he gets cold in the night. For now it's warm, though, and he steps back into his shoes and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, voice far more even than he would have expected.

Tycho doesn't say anything, and Wedge is glad to escape for a moment. He's trembling all over as he steps around the side of the shelter. That was – _intense_, and he doesn't know what to do next. Tycho hadn't said anything. Should Wedge say something? Should he make a move?

His heart pounds, and too soon he has no excuse but to return. Tycho has banked the fire and changed while Wedge was gone, and is now resting atop his own sleeping bag, poking at his phone. He won't have service here, but he could be making a journal entry or typing a note to send home later.

He doesn't look up when Wedge sits down on his own bag, and Wedge has to wonder suddenly, head spinning, if he'd imagined the whole thing. He could go to sleep now, leave it all behind, but he's far too wired. He considers turning on the lantern and pulling out his guidebook to look ahead, but he doubts he'd be able to concentrate. And, honestly, it's better to save the batteries.

Still feeling indecisive and on edge, he flops down. He considers for a moment rolling away from Tycho, but in the dark, Tycho won't be able to tell if he's looking, and Wedge wants to watch him more.

There's only the dim glow of the phone's screen on Tycho's face, his expression one of concentration as he types. Wedge has no idea what he's thinking, and though he longs to ask, he also knows he won't.

After a few more minutes, Tycho puts his phone away and lays down, also facing Wedge. Wedge wonders if he's watching him as well, his heart rate spiking again.

Around them, the woods are as quiet as they ever get – filled with insect noises and the faraway sound of small animals moving in the brush. The breathing of two men so close and so far apart.

“Wedge?” Tycho asks, his voice barely above a whisper but sounding so very loud.

“Y-yeah?” Wedge responds, hating the way his voice trembles.

“You are still awake,” Tycho says, mostly to himself. There's a pause, and then movement. The two feet of bare planks between their sleeping bags suddenly disappears, and Tycho is kneeling over Wedge, the dying light of the campfire embers burnishing one side of his face and hair as he looks down.

Wedge's heart is galloping in his chest so hard he can barely breathe.

“Tell me if you don't want this,” Tycho says all in a rush as if he's suddenly made a decision. Then he's bending down and kissing Wedge.

Wedge gasps against his lips, one hand automatically coming up to grip his shoulder and pull him closer. Tycho is kissing him. Tycho is kissing him.

The kiss lasts long, heady moments, and when Tycho pulls back it's only far enough to pant against his lips, “More?”

Wedge shudders and gasps, “_Yes._”

Tycho kisses him again, harder, teasing the seal of his lips and licking inside when Wedge opens for him. Wedge moans into his mouth, heat spiking in him so quickly it takes his breath away.

Tycho is right there too, nudging Wedge onto his back and swinging a leg over to straddle him, pressing down against him and letting him feel his body. Warm skin, slender but strong arms, lightly muscled stomach, lean legs. A hard cock tenting his shorts and rubbing against Wedge's leg.

Wedge whimpers, desire scalding his entire body. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected any of this, he hadn't expected it to be so fast, but now that he's here, he's not about to go back. He gets trembling hands around Tycho's hips and pulls him closer, bodies flush, pressing his own growing hardness against the other man.

Tycho moans, his body jerking against Wedge's in the most pleasing way. When he's caught his breath, he rasps, “We're wearing too many clothes.”

Wedge agrees. He feels bereft when Tycho lifts away from him again, but it gives them both a chance to pull down their shorts and underwear. Tycho flips on the lantern to its lowest setting, and Wedge feels warm all over again as he studies his face. Cheeks flushed, eyes dark with lust. He imagines he looks the same.

“Come back down here,” Wedge murmurs, and Tycho's lips curve into a smile as he does. He kisses Wedge again, then reaches down between them. Wedge's heart leaps into his throat as Tycho's fingers skim his straining cock, then move past it. Instead of taking one or both of them in hand like Wedge expected, though, Tycho coaxes Wedge’s legs apart just a little and slides his own cock between Wedge's thighs.

Wedge lets out a whimper of surprise, instinctively closing his legs back around Tycho, trembling with the reality of him plump and hot and hard so close against his body.

“That’s it,” Tycho groans, shifting a little in a way that makes pleasure spike all the way up Wedge’s spine. “No lube, but-” He moves again, an actual thrust his time, and Wedge has to bite his lip at the sensation of precome smearing against his thighs. God, Tycho is leaking so much already. “I think we’ll be okay.”

Wedge can’t even nod, too overcome with what’s happening. His hands flutter for a moment, then find Tycho’s hips once more and squeeze.

Tycho moves again, pulling a soft, strangled sound from Wedge. He pauses, breathing hard. “You okay?”

“S’good,” Wedge moans, working to catch the rhythm. He tries to keep his thighs in place while thrusting back against Tycho and gasps as his cockhead rubs against Tycho’s muscled abdomen.

Tycho kisses him then, hot and wet, tongue pressing into Wedge’s mouth again and making him groan. Their lower bodies keep moving, Tycho’s cock sliding freely now along the thin, sensitive skin of Wedge’s thighs and perineum, stoking fire in his belly, as Wedge's cock rocks back and forth between them.

Wedge mutters a half-strangled curse as they part for air, and Tycho chuckles breathlessly, nipping at his ear before murmuring into it, “We’re alone in the woods, Wedge. No one to hear. Don’t hold back.”

Before Wedge can form a thought about possible night hikers, Tycho's next thrust slides just right along his balls, and Wedge cries out, his voice echoing in the shelter and ringing among the trees. The sound adds an unexpected new layer of exhilaration.

“Yeah, like that,” Tycho chuckles and repeats the motion, pressing grinning lips to Wedge’s as they make matching sounds of pleasure.

This thrust goes deeper, the head of Tycho’s cock nudging Wedge’s hole, and Wedge goes rigid against him, choking on sudden _need_. No lube, damn. The back of his mind is already doing calculations about whether the extra ounces in his pack would be worth it.

Tycho as good as reads his mind. “Next time,” he promises under his breath, aiming another long stroke along Wedge’s body. “We’ll meet up in town, share a motel room...”

Wedge imagines it, heart racing with the image. A soft bed. Tycho stretching him open and pushing inside, filling him so well-

Tycho shudders, biting out Wedge’s name as Wedge instinctively squeezes around him. “I’m close,” Tycho gasps.

Wedge can tell. Tycho’s entire body trembles against his, breathing ragged in his ear, as Tycho’s thrusts grow faster, sloppier.

Wedge whines at the increased stimulation on his own cock, his own orgasm in sight - but then it recedes again as Tycho jerks away, straddling Wedge upright and fisting his cock desperately, head thrown back to the sky.

Wedge is caught in an eternal instant watching him - the way the lantern light catches the rapture on his face, the perfect lines of his body - and then Tycho cries out and bows forward, and Wedge gasps as hot come stripes his thighs and rolls across his skin.

He comes back to himself with it, struggling for breath, full of need, body demanding more-

And then Tycho is moving, and before Wedge can beg, he takes him in his mouth. Hot velvet flesh, perfect lips and tongue, and Wedge barely gets desperate hands clutched in blond hair before he’s coming as well, Tycho giving a muffled grunt as he swallows. He leads Wedge through, wringing every drop of pleasure from him, then gently lets him go.

Wedge collapses back onto his sleeping bag, breathing hard. There's a dopey grin on his face, like he can't quite believe he's really just done that. Tycho spits over the edge of the shelter, then drags his own sleeping bag over and flops down right next to Wedge, his expression matching. “That was-”

“Unexpected,” Wedge finishes, a giggle bursting out of him. When Tycho's brow wrinkles, he rolls over and kisses him lightly. “But so good.”

Tycho's lips curl back into a smile, and he kisses back, hands framing Wedge's face and holding him with more gentleness now. That, too, feels good. Wedge could get used to this.

Wedge sits up, shivering a little in the night air. He pictures how ridiculous he must look with his shorts around his knees and come striping his thighs. He looks down, touching the drying wetness with fingertips and shivering again, warm embers of arousal still simmering in his stomach.

He looks over to find Tycho watching him. “You look amazing like this,” Tycho murmurs, quiet and sincere. The lantern light paints shadows and light on his face, makes him look solemn and serious and beautiful. “I hope we get to do this again. I really like you, Wedge.”

“I really like you, too, Tycho.” He just has to kiss him again, then. It goes on for several moments, warm and soft. When Wedge pulls back, he makes a face as the skin of his legs pulls and sticks. “Now I really need a shower.”

“An inconvenience of the trail,” Tycho laughs. “You need some wipes?”

“I've got my own.” Wedge finds them in his pack and cleans himself up as best he can, shoving them back into his garbage bag and pulling up his shorts. There's a damp spot on his sleeping bag, too, but there's not much to be done for it. He gives it a wipe, then crawls inside and leaves it to air dry.

Tycho puts himself back together, too, and lays down as well. The shelter goes quiet. Wedge switches off the lantern. He feels like he should say something, but what?

“Go to sleep, Wedge,” Tycho murmurs. “We'll both still be here in the morning.”

It's a reassuring thought.

Wedge wakes to the smell of instant eggs, and immediately his mouth is watering. Tycho is perched at the picnic table with a cup, paging through the shelter's logbook. Wedge stretches, and Tycho looks over.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

“Yeah.” Wedge goes to join him, hoping this isn't going to be awkward.

Apparently Tycho has the same fear. “It's not going to be weird, right? Last night was good, and we're not going to regret it or pretend it didn't happen or anything silly like that?”

Wedge grins, instantly at ease. “Share your eggs with me, and we're good.”

Tycho makes a face. “_My_ eggs. You got something to trade?”

“I could hook you up with an oatmeal packet or two, maybe some Tang mix. Balanced breakfast and all that.”

“Deal.”

Wedge gets the offered items and hands them over, accepting half of Tycho's eggs into his own cup in return. He sips from his water bottle and eats, watching Tycho peruse the book. It's oddly domestic for the middle of the woods, and he likes it a lot. He tries not to consider that they'll have to separate and head out soon.

“Anything good in there?”

Tycho shrugs. “Nothing much. Clown and Eeyore haven't been here yet. I must've passed them at some point and not seen them.”

“Maybe they took a zero in the last town. They'd mentioned they might have to if Eeyore's prosthetics started giving him trouble.”

“True.”

Tycho reaches the first blank page of the logbook and picks up the pencil. He pushes the eraser to his chin thoughtfully, a gesture Wedge finds unexpectedly endearing, then begins to write. The note isn't long, and when he finishes, he spins the book around to show Wedge.

He's written the date and below that _Tyke and Pizza spent the night. Had a great time._

“'Had a great time,'” Wedge repeats dubiously. Will that seem like as thin a veneer to everyone else as it does to him?

Tycho grins. “Is it a lie? I could write _Tyke and Pizza had amazing, loud animal sex in the woods_ if you prefer.”

Wedge chokes on his eggs. Tycho reaches over to whack him on the back, and when he can breathe again, Wedge says primly, “No thanks. I guess this will do.”

Tycho smirks and slides the logbook and pencil back into their waterproof container and returns it to the corner of the shelter.

They finish eating all too quickly, and there's no longer any avoiding setting off. They both have to hike; that's why they're out here. It's not like they'll never see each other again.

“We're really going to meet up in town, right?” Wedge ventures when they've both got their belongings secured and their packs on, because he's not going to let this get away from him.

“Yeah, I meant that.” Tycho's smile is relieved. “Not the next one, but the one after that? I'm planning on being there in eight days and spending at least one night. Do you think you can make that?”

Wedge nods. “I'll look forward to it,” he says with feeling.

“And who knows,” Tycho adds. “We might see each other between now and then.”

“Who knows,” Wedge echoes, stepping closer to him.

They kiss, long and lingering. Wedge's eyes slip closed, and for a moment nothing exists but Tycho's lips, the morning songs of birds, and sunshine warm on his face.

“I'll miss you,” Tycho says when they part. “Even if it's only for a few days.”

“We've survived this long,” Wedge tells him, though inside he agrees. “Eight days.”

“Eight days.” Tycho darts in for one more peck then turns resolutely and heads for the main trail. “I'll see you then.”

Wedge follows him, but by the time he's made it to where the shelter trail joins the A.T., Tycho has already disappeared around a bend. _He's fast_, Wedge thinks, not for the first time, and then he grins to himself. All the more motivation for him to get moving himself.

Eight days. That's nothing in the grand scheme of things. They both have months left on the trail, and who knows what might happen in that time?


End file.
